Stream of Consciousness:

How June persuaded herself out of buying boots

I need to buy boots. How much are boots anyways—about $120 at Eaton Centre. I think I’ll buy myself a nice black pair. But wait a minute—do I have $120 to spend? Yes, I do; in fact, that’s all there is in my bank savings (excluding the two dollars in my checking account). Why do I need a savings account anyways? I never save anything. Every dollar disappears within two weeks. I should work more. So much more that I’ll have thousands of dollars lying nice and cozy in both my accounts. But right now I only have enough to buy boots. Damn boots. I’ll be walking about in boots that cost $120—do I want to spend that much anyways? Divide the cost by my minimum wage and that equals the rounded sum of fourteen. Do I want to buy boots that will cost me fourteen hours of boring labour at Mandarin? Fourteen hours of walking back and forth, round and round the friggin’ restaurant. Fourteen hours of smiling till my cheeks tremble and ache. Fourteen hours of repeating over and over again, like some broken record, as I bring customers in: Hi, how are you? Fine? Awesome. Yes, I’m doing well myself, thank you. And have you been to Mandarin before? Nice. Then just a friendly reminder, the washroom is right over there. And since we’re very busy tonight there’s a time limit of an hour and forty-five minutes. This way please. You’ll be dining in Room C; and your table for tonight is right over here. Enjoy your meal. Do I want to spend fourteen hours of saying these lines for a pair of black boots? Why do I need boots that cost $120 anyways? I can go to some thrift shop and buy a pair of boots that’ll keep my feet relatively warm for $10 or less. Granted, they’ll be ugly—but ugly for whom? For me? And why should I care whether they’re ugly or not? As long as they’re warm, isn’t that what matters? No. Because I’ll be bothered by the thoughts of what others will think of my ugly boots? Why should I care about what others think? Because the ugly boots might be a turn off to guys? What? What? What guy? I’m a nineteen-year-old in a high school where more than half its male population consists of immature boys. See, there are no guys to look pretty for. So why spend $120 for a lost cause? And do I need boots to attract a guy anyway? Why would I want to attract a guy who would be turned off by ugly boots? How shallow is that. So, why should I spend $120 for the worthless, artificial affection of such a guy? I need a MAN who will look past the ugly boots and see me for who I am. There. I don’t need nice boots. I’ll go to a thrift shop and by myself a warm, ugly, comfy pair.

It’s good to live like this—it’s good to live economically, simply, and unadorned. Now, I have $120 sitting in my savings account.—Maybe I’ll go to the mall and buy myself a nice purse with that.